Viva la Revolution!
by Nathalie Andrews
Summary: What would have happened if Dean had refused to "play nice" in the beginning? And what if this story caused a butterfly-effect that would ripple to the very last season? A crack-fic with a seriously delighting twist! Raised to M rating for safety!
1. Clenched Teeth

_**Disclaimer: The Supernatural universe belongs to Eric Kripke and CW, not me! **_

_**There is no profit to this, as it's harmless silly fan fiction!**_

_**Genre: Humor, suspense, romance**_

_**Rating: M (for safety, though I feel it's more T)**_

_**Ship: Destiel**_

* * *

**Viva`la Revolution!**

… … …

...

"_You think the armies of hell should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here." _

It had been intolerable. Castiel had tried to be understanding, graciously dismissed the anger and the insults. They were only human beings, limited in their understanding of the world. But he had raised him from the ultimate darkness, from an eternity of pain and despair, and yet Dean mocked him. Mocked what they where trying to accomplish, what their brothers and sisters had been dying for. He had been standing there in front of him, so defiant and vain, incapable of understanding the truth Castiel was generously sharing with him.

"_You should show me some respect."_

Castiel had paused slightly, trapping Dean's wavering glance with his own intense glare.

"_I dragged you out of hell… And I could throw you back in." _

Then a silence had followed, only interrupted by the fast drumming of a frightened heart, left alone in the cold kitchen.

It didn't improve.

Dean Winchester just didn't learn. It was like if his mental programming strictly forbade him to behave in a civilized manner, or at least a logical one. Castiel could have settled with a logical one.

"Stop him?" Dean halfway turned around, with his hand on the doorknob. "Excuse me, would you mind digging a little deeper into that one?"

"Dean, unless you stop him, we will…"

"You will what…?" It came out as a hoarse whisper.

Castiel didn't even blink.

"You will what, really?" Dean couldn't stop the anger from tearing him up on the inside.

"The wrath of heaven..."

"We are not talking about heaven, we are talking about you. And I ask again, you friggin son of a bitch, you will do what?" Dean raised his voice, and gave him an infuriated glare.

"Do you want a detailed gospel, or should I just give you a short summary?" There was an unusual amount of sarcasm in the angel's voice.

Dean shook his head slightly, and raised an eyebrow.

"Over my dead body, you winged freak."

As Castiel opened his mouth to answer, Dean punched him. Not a soft smack, but a real blow to the eye, powered by the intense anger he was feeling. He punched him again, and hit him on the lip. The third punch was stopped in mid-air, as Castiel gripped a hold of his wrist and pulled it towards him, causing Dean to fall forward on his knees. Then he bent down, holding the wrist in such a position that it would snap if Dean moved even just slightly.

Dean made an almost inaudible groan of pain.

"You won't throw me back in the pit, cause you need me. Hell, I don't fudging know why, but you bloody need me! So, you go to hell! And you take your brothers with you, cause you're not getting mine, no matter how screwed he is! "

He just couldn't make himself stop.

The angel leaned in even closer, and Dean failed to meet the cold glare. His pulse sped up, and fear made the contents of his stomach painfully heavy. It dawned on him, as the angel suddenly came up dangerously close to his face that he possibly had finally gone too far. There was a look of cold wrath in the dark blue eyes, as power radiated from the impassive face.

Barely inches apart, Castiel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes.

"I don't have to send you anywhere. All it requires is for you to be asleep. Time is flexible, Dean, remember?" He stared at him, and there was a faint hint of some emotion in his face.

For just a moment, Dean found himself wondering if it was pity. Then the angel raised his finger, and it came up towards his forehead. Dean froze; his heart beating almost up in his throat.

"God, that's a cheap trick, you bastard."

SNSNSNSN

He didn't make him sleep, and just thinking about it made Dean wanna kill something. Despite him doing everything he could to piss the angel off, he still hadn't made good of his threats. It struck him, as he was driving the impala towards no place in particular, that it was really all screwed. Just so very wrong. Sam out there with that demon bitch, using his powers in the darkness. Being threatened by angels was actually just the last straw.

It could go either way, he figured.

Through the happy "merry-go-around" routine; where Dean would try to hide his emotions, fight the war like a dutiful son, break down once or twice, throw off nasty comments and deflated puns whenever there was room for it, while at the same time thoroughly please the angels on his shoulders.

Dean shook his head. Or he could just revolt. Strike.

Tell the divine fudging `A holes to blow themselves with a wet hairdryer and take a crap-bath in their own reverse pie-hole.

"What are you thinking about?"

Dean almost drove off the road.

"That line is getting old, you know. Repeating lame lines won't get you anywhere in the world of awesome." He said hoarsely.

"Dean, the truth…"

"…is out there, but I really don't give a damned!"

"Why do you insist on being intolerable?"

Castiel had never had a problem with frustration before. Now, he did.

"Actually, I used to be adorable, before the whole being "shredded by hell hounds and groped by angels" crap." Dean smiled, and gave a small sideways nod, "Good times…"

There was a soft poof of feathery flapping, before only cold and dark occupied the seat next to him.

"Good riddance…" Dean mumbled.

Something touched his shoulder, and he jumped two feet in the air, knocking his head against the impala roof.

"You will not be rid of me that easily." Castiel looked at him with a deadpan expression in his strict features.

"Oh, for cryin`out loud, what do you want from me? Huh? You want me to ram this friggin beauty of a car into a damned tree? Cause I will!" He paused, and raised an eyebrow. "Or actually, I'll steal someone else`s car, and smash that!"

"I want you to turn this vehicle around, and go back to your motel. You need to talk to your brother!"

"Since when did any of you bitches give a crapstickle about what I need?"

"We saved your soul from hell, Dean."

"Well, you know what they say, fool me once…"

He tore at the steering wheels, and did an abrupt left turn. Then he suddenly slammed on the brakes, and sent the car almost spinning out of control out into the open desert.

Castiel just sat there, staring out of the right car window. His Prussian blue eyes glinted of something rather indeterminable in the still sharp light from the ebbing sun in the horizon. Then he turned his stare at Dean, his mouth a thin line that screamed of inner turmoil.

Dean refused to pay him a single glance, and marched out of the tired-looking car.

He kicked aside a rock that lay cradled next to the left front-wheel, and leaned up against the bumper and the hood.

As Castiel came forth on the other side, Dean drew a .38 pistol, and shot 5 bullets directly into the angel's chest. Castiel was stopped rather abruptly, and sent Dean a vaguely annoyed glare. Dean did another sideways nod, without a smile this time, and pointed the gun at the angel's face.

Before he had time to pull the trigger, something knocked the air out of him, and sent him flying into a heap of sand.

"Uriel, stop!" Castiel`s voice was somewhat unnerving to Dean, who didn't even have a chance to stand up before he was slammed down with his back against the hood of the car.

The dark man that was holding him by the throat had a rather pissy look in his sour face.

"This disgusting little mud monkey needs to be dealt a little punishment."

"If you had worn one of those hybrid metal/leather outfits, that sentence would have been hell of a lot scarier…" Dean wheezed out through clenched teeth.

"Uriel…" Castiel was loosing his patience.

The big hand loosened its grip on Dean's throat, and by the time he had gotten up, the other angel was gone.

"Can we have a civilized conversation now?" The angel asked, eyes narrowing.

"I don't know, are you gonna threaten to send me back to the pit again if I say no?" Dean raised an eyebrow and creased his forehead.

"Enough of it." He came closer, and Dean could almost feel the nerves awakening inside him. Hairs rose on his arms when Castiel leaned in closer.

Dean swallowed, and realized he was just flat out exhausted.

"Look, I want to fight, I do, but your divine BS is just not…"

Whatever it was, he never managed to finish, as Castiel suddenly locked his lips onto his. It was soft, and sweet, and better yet, Dean didn't really have the time to panic.

There was a Blink.

He opened his eyes, and saw that he was back inside the empty motel room.

"What the…?"


	2. The Damned Kiss

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, there is no money earned on this fan fic. All of this goes to Eric Kripke, the CW and George Lucas for the SW references.** _

* * *

"He did what?" Sam's expression was one of absolute confusion.

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath in the process.

"I know, completely insane."

"You're kidding me?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then he remembered, he didn't really give a shit. They did after all have more pressing matters on their hands.

"Saw it on Oprah, man… Chris Brown is officially a dick!"

Dean just wouldn't let it go.

"Okay, can we move on now, what did the angels say?"

Sam Winchester did have a problem with angels that threatened to kill him. It just wasn't something he felt that he deserved. Not after what they had done, after what he had done… All those people he saved with Ruby. He frowned. Perhaps better not to mention her, or even think about her.

They were driving down an unmarked street on their way to meet an old hunter friend about a case he was working on, something concerning a flesh-eating man up north that they probably had to gank.

"You know what they said, Sam. I told you. Geez, are you in denial, or something?"

Dean sounded pissed as hell, but Sam ignored it. They hadn't exactly been seeing eye to eye since the truth came up. Well, at least part of the truth. The part that Sam probably should have told Dean before he found out the way he did. He still didn't know everything, and Sam was going to make sure it stayed that way. Anything else would be too much information.

"Yeah, I am trying to deny the fact that some angel used you for his boy toy."

At this part, Dean almost ran the car off the road, and had to step on the breaks in order to make the curve ahead.

"Christ, Dean. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam said, sending a seriously bewildered look at Dean, whose face had gone very red.

"What do you mean boy toy? I didn't tell you about…" Dean started, but the sentence trailed off into silence.

Sam was clinging to the car-door firmly, taking deep steady breaths as the car fell back into the right file. Man, was Dean acting odd or what?

"When an angel slaps you around, and kicks your ass, I'd say you were pretty much being toyed with!" He shook his head. "What else could I have meant?"

Dean swallowed, looking at Sam with wide innocent eyes, both eyebrows raised. He gave his brother a sideways nod and something that was supposed to resemble a smile, before retorting:

"He didn't kick my ass; he just had some fun with it."

(Ouch)

His face reddened even more, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"What?" Sam said, while shaking his head, mouth half open. He didn't make heads or tails of the weird expression on Dean's face.

"Nothing, no ass involved what so ever…Just… Just leave me alone!" Dean sighed, and a sound of pain erupted from the back of his throat.

Sam turned away from him, staring into nothing but air.

His mouth had remained half open and he wore a slight frown, deep wrinkles spreading on his wide forehead.

He almost said something, but stopped himself.

Unable to hold it in for too long, he blurted out with it.

"Look, man, if this is your totally crappy way of asking what is going on between me and Ruby; first of all, that is none of your business! You made it perfectly clear that you really aren't okay with anything I have been doing…"

Dean turned towards him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Whoa, what the hell are you talking about? You have been doing what with Ruby? Except from ganking demons with the power of your mind? Doing the Vader on innocent people?"

"We… Doing the Vader? What the hell kind of Star Wars reference is that? You are so losing your touch!" Sam sniggered, and it pissed Dean off even further.

He tried to throw out another insult, but Sam burst out into a low laughter, clutching the stupid map he had been trying to read earlier.

"You are totally intolerable…" Dean mumbled.

Sam wiped a tear from his eye and frowned again.

"Intolerable? What, your new boyfriend said that?"

Dean stamped down on the breaks, and stopped the car. Then he pointed a finger at Sam, a look of death and seriousness on his face.

"I'm gonna fudging kick your ass!"

"It was joke, Dean, and what's with the unhealthy ass-obsession?" Sam couldn't stop smiling. He hadn't been able to yank his brother's chain like this since they were kids.

Dean licked his lips, and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Sam, the hazel eyes still dead serious.

"You're a psychic Anakin Skywalker, you know that?" He raised an eyebrow again.

Sam snorted.

"Yeah, and you're a slut…"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Demon-lover."

"Angel-lover."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Look, just because Cass kissed me…" he began.

Sam's smile disappeared.

"What…? The angel kissed you?"

(...)

Dean could have shot himself. And was fully planning to.

Later.

The angel was gonna get it first.

Damned.

Wrong choice of words.

Again.


	3. Dr Phil

_**Chapter III**_

Dean sat on one of the two small beds, only separated by a wooden night table, in a dusty motel room, watching the flickering TV in front of him. The brothers had quietly decided to take the night off, as they were still several hours from the destination point. Sam had taken off shortly after they reached the motel, when Dean had complained in an unnaturally high tone; that they really needed some beer.

He was pressing the remote-control, swiftly going through the different channels, when the face of Dr. Phil suddenly appeared on the screen.

_What do you do, when your relationship suddenly takes an unexpected turn? Stay tuned, because we will be discussing what to do, when your best friend reveals that..._

_" _Oh, god, Kill me now." Dean groaned, and tried desperately to press the off-button. There was something sticky on it, so the damned thing refused to obey.

(Yuck.)

"You are praying, Dean, and that is a good thing, but you should probably re-consider the contents of that particular prayer."

The dark voice sounded awfully like growling, and was rudely interrupting the good Dr. Phil; currently verbally abusing some middle-aged housewife.

..

Dean jumped and turned around; grabbing tightly the pillow he had been holding against his stomach. The angel was sitting on the other bed, with his hands on the knees.

"I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that!" Dean wheezed out through gritted teeth. "We seriously need to talk!"

Castiel cocked his head, the dark hair even untidier than usual.

"Why?" He seemed completely unaffected by the raw anger in Dean's voice, and wore the standard deadpan expression that suddenly annoyed the hell out of the man in front of him.

"Oh, don't you come here and play innocent, you darned minx! Uhm... Well, you know what the hell I mean..." Dean almost stuttered, his face going redder by the second. This was awesome. Totally awesome. He was behaving like an idiot. "… Lips against lips, really sinful stuff! Does that ring a bell?"

"And?" The angel still didn't pull a single facial muscle, nor showed any sign of understanding as to why he was so upset.

Dean raised an eyebrow, his annoyance reaching a level where he almost forgot to be embarrassed. "Why on earth would you do something like that?"

"You were being intolerable." Castiel said, and looked wide-eyed at Dean, as if that sentence explained everything.

Dean frowned.

"What the hell do they teach you guys at angel-school? You can't just go around kissing people, just because they're intolerable. "

Castiel drew a deep breath, but he didn't look frustrated at all. Actually, Dean could have sworn he saw the hint of a smirk on the angel's lips. There was definitely somewhat of a spark in the dark eyes, as the angel leaned in a little closer.

"They teach basic human psychology, and actually Dean, I can.

In fact, I urge you to behave."

Dean stared dumbstruck at him.

"Why?" He asked, noticing numbly how stupid it sounded.

"Because if you don't, I might do it again." Castiel sent a glance towards the door. "And there is no such thing as an angel-school. It is all practice."

..

Dean didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter because at that moment, the motel-door opened. Sam froze in the doorway, the expression on his face very unreadable, and his arms were filled with cold bottles of Heineken.

He stared at them, suddenly unable to string together a proper sentence.

"Uhm, are you guys... Should I... Do you want beer?" He finished desperately.

"Oh, yes, please!" Said Dean, his eyes staring intently at the green bottles. Then he swallowed and turned around, just to find that Castiel had disappeared.

Again.

_Thank god. _

He was turning into a praying man. Not good.

"I seriously need to be drunk right now." He said, shaking his head slightly, and widening his eyes.

Sam glanced at him, nostrils almost vibrating as he weighed his next words carefully.

"Man, I should bring something stronger next time..."

"The only thing that could make this go away, would be a bullet." Dean mumbled, now looking back at the TV.

Sam sighed, and sat down on the bed next to him. He put the beer down between them, and opened one for his brother.

"You're such a drama queen, Dean. Being gay isn't the worst faith in the world. It increases the options on the market of _love _with 50%!" He smiled broadly, and opened a beer for himself. With a short nod towards Dean, he took a small sip at the beer and winked.

Dean snorted.

"Don't be a douche bag, I don't have anything against gay people, it's the damned angels I just can't stand." He paused, and added; "Besides, I am not gay, I'm just overcompensating..." The last words were followed by a slight pout.

"Right..." Sam turned away with the shadow of a smile and a pondering expression on his face.

Dean looked at him, frowning.

They drank their beer in a silence only interrupted by Dr. Phil, continuing in the background;

_The worst crimes one can commit when in a relationship, is to ignore, neglect and deny. I would say, and the experts agree with me, that one of the most noticeable signs of a passionate relationship, is bitter arguing! In fact, the worse the bickering..._

"Oh, bite me!" Dean said, and finally managed to slam down the off-button.


	4. The Cure for Alcoholism

_**Disclaimer: Don't own jack. Or Dean, or anyone else here! It's all property of the holy Kriptkeeper!**_

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***'*'***

**Chapter IV**

Dean woke up startled and drenched in his own sweat. The latter disturbed him almost as much as the nightmare had.

A "real as fucking hell" nightmare of the kind that make you go all Hannibal Lecter on whomever sleeps next to you. He froze by the thought, before turning around slowly. The other side of the bed was empty. Thank God!

No, really.

Thank the friggin` lord, if there ever was one…

`Cause the dream… Nightmare! It wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare!

Well, it didn't really matter; his brain had already gone into denial-mode.

There was no way he'd do the dream-sharing, issues-working self-help-shit.

He needed something a hell of a lot stronger than mouthwash for this.

… … …

The same icky substance seemed to have been smeared all over the doorknob and Sam pulled a face of disgust as he entered the motel room. This was by far the most crappy place they had ever spent three nights in a row. His frustration rose sky-high as he noticed Dean sitting on a chair in the far corner, pouring down whiskey straight from the bottle.

"Oh, come on! Dude, seriously..."

He sighed and let his mouth hang open while he took a pause to draw his breath.

"Don't you think it's a bit too early for that? We have a meeting with that scientist-dude in half an hour!"

"You go without me, Sammy. Take one for the team. I have something nasty to exorcise…"

Sam was suddenly feeling the need to be shamelessly sarcastic.

"What? Is your bottle possessed by an alcoholic?"

Dean raised his eyebrows and creased his forehead.

"Nah, it's that thing between my ears. Seriously, I so need to be dead drunk right now, go do the mission. Oh, wait, I didn't mean… Don't do him, unless it's a "her"… Oh, geez, you know what I mean…Christ…" He hid his face in his hands.

Sam shook his head, now smiling.  
"Dean, if this is all about the Castiel-issue, then let it go. It was just some crap he pulled to get you off the whole revolutionary thing. Come on, I'll even stop teasing you, just pull yourself together!"

"Uh, uh, nope, I'm not going anywhere. You go. Have fun!"

Dean winked, and raised the bottle to his lips.

… … …

Every mouthful of the clear brown liquid burned in his throat.

A sensation of absolute giddiness came over him, along with the desperate need to relieve himself. He realized that he had already drunk half of the medium sized bottle.

Drunk the booze, not the bottle.

Glass tends gets stuck in your mouth, like razor-blades. The thought made him laugh a little. Razor-blades, funny! It was time to go and satisfy nature, or at least his bladder.

When he came stumbling back from the bathroom, he saw someone sitting on his bed.

"Great, now you're sneaking up on me while I go peeing. What's next, huh?"

Dean lurched unsteadily over to the corner and slid down into a sitting position. Then he sent Castiel the grumpiest expression he could muster. This was all the angel's fault. First he invaded their lives, and now the winged freak fully intended to tear apart his already fragile sleeping time as well. . .

"You are drunk."

Castiel`s voice was dangerously low, and close to a growl.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"No, shit, Sherlock..."

Castiel cocked his head and rose from the bed.

The full lips were tightly closed and his eyes slightly narrowed.

Dean could feel a warning bell, or two, ring in his head somewhere deep behind the veil of drunkenness. However, the testosterone poisoning wouldn't let go, so he continued in a mock voice:

"You know, Cass, honey, you're right! What was I thinking? I tortured souls in hell, Sam's gone totally Vader up on me, some angel sleep-abused my body in every disgusting way I can think off, and we're in the middle of an apocalypse rising that will probably kill off every human being on this planet, and I go off and get myself drunk. Shame… on… me...

... why don't you spank me?"

The angel didn't even blink. He walked towards Dean with the hands down along his sides, staring at him with a deadpan glare, something dangerously close to wrath flashing in his eyes.

"Dean…"

The one word held more menace than a truckload of demon Nazis, yet the object of his wrath only raised an eyebrow and chuckled shamelessly.

"What, spanking's not your thing? I'd have thought that was right up your ally."

Castiel kneeled down right in front of him, his eyes narrowing further as the dry lips parted few inches from Dean's face.

Of some strange reason, teasing the angel suddenly wasn't so funny anymore. Dean felt chills run down the spine and swallowed, trying to avoid looking directly into the intense blue eyes that stared unblinkingly into his own.

"Hey, Cass, that was a joke, okay? Please don't spank me…"

Castiel cocked his head, watching the rather terrified look on the boy's face.

"I told you to behave."

"Uhm... Yeah… Sorry?"

Deep wrinkles spread on Dean's forehead. The alcohol had seemingly evaporated, and he felt very sober as he sat there, painfully aware that he could smell the angel's breath. Or the vessel's breath, more accurately. Didn't really make it any better though. Really. Not. Better!

"You should go and rest…"

"But…"

"Now."

"Okay."

Dean rose and slid across the room with his back pressed up to the wall, shielding his vulnerable backside until he was as far away from the angel as he could get. Then he sat down on the bed and dragged himself backwards until he felt safely pressed up against the bedside. Castiel rose from the floor. The room was awfully quiet.

Dean had to swallow a whimper as the angel sat down on the bed next to him.

"Listen closely, Dean. Unless you stop drinking, next time you have a… nightmare… I won't be in it."

Dean looked up at him, frowning, and as their eyes met, the angel continued:

"I'll send Uriel instead."

… … …

When Sam came back an hour later, he found his brother sitting on the bed, clutching a pillow, with a look of uttermost terror on his face.

"Uhm, Dean?" He tried carefully.

Dean raised his gaze, and the look changed from terror to panic as he saw the beer in his brother's arms.

"Oh, god, get that out of here, Sammy."

"What, you lost the battle against the wicked drunk?"

"Seriously man, now!" Dean almost yelled, before hesitating.

"And get me some coffee while you're out."

With a slight shake of the head and a rather confused facial expression, Sam turned away and placed a hand on the sticky doorknob. He opened the door and threw a quick glance back at Dean, who was now rocking back and forth with his eyes closed, praying.

… … …

From the other side of the street, the angels watched in silence as Sam entered the car.

Uriel raised his eyebrows vaguely and gave a short cough.

"Are we done playing with the mud-monkey, Castiel?"

There was no reply.

Uriel laughed, shaking his head.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side.

I might be an evil treacherous bastard, but this is just too cruel."

"What?" Castiel asked, lost in the haze of whatever went on behind the blue eyes.

Uriel tensed, before replying hurriedly;

"I did not utter a word... I am so not planning to betray you and your mud-monkey, in order to raise the ultimate evil for my own vaguely disgusting pleasure.

Not to mention how I long to bathe in the blood and various body-liquids from the human being that has pestered my life ever since this… "

Uriel kept on ranting for a while, until he suddenly became very silent. He coughed violently and then began humming on some tune from that black box those pests were so fond of. He had blown it and revealed himself too soon, Lucifer's sweet ass be damned! His chance of tempting his friend with deceit and moral indecency was now lost!

Or not...

Castiel sighed, before responding absentmindedly;

"I am sorry, my friend, but I find myself completely incapable of paying any attention to your evil smirks, scheming nature and obviously horrid personality traits."

'

(That, _my friend_, is obvious!)

Thank the lord for Castiel`s ability of selective attention.


	5. Back to the Future

_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own the Supernatural universe or any of it's characters. I am not making a profit on this in any way and there's no point in suing, I am as poor as the guy in the Hamsun novel «Sult». (Translated: Starvation). Okay, so almost not that poor, but I am not eating cake!_

_Genre: Humor, suspense with a hint of parody._

_Rating: Began as T, now going towards M_

_Ships: I can promise no Uriel/Dean (unfortunately for some, I know!) Destiel on the other hand …_

_A big thank you to beta chocolate-moosey &XDevil-Wolf-ChanX for helping me restart this piece. The next chapters have been written and awaits betaìng, finally this story will be finished! There will be 13 chapters altogether!_

**Last time we saw our heroes: **_Determined to stay the Captain of the Supernatural ship, Dean rebelled against Castiel and his brother Uriel, which resulted in a plague of sexual nightmares and terrible pranks, as he struggled against the angelic forces that threatened his brother. Oh, and Sam was totally okay with it. Dean finally decided to never again drink alcohol at the threat of Uriel and his mighty... well, I could put in a «the pen is mightier than the sword», but they're both phallus symbols so I guess it's a mute point. _

_Now the angel of treachery is dead and gone, but something weird has happened. Dean isn't in Kansas anymore and the yellow brick road is filling up with confetti as we speak._

**Chapter 5. **

**«Back to the Future»**

White light struck his eyes and they shone in a muddy shade of emerald before he closed them tightly. A sensation of floating in space ensued as the world began spinning faster than lightning under his feet.

"Whoa... Son of a…" Dean mumbled, feeling slightly queasy as his knees threatened to buckle under him. It almost felt like he had been zapped somewhere, but something was very wrong. The last thing he remembered was clinging to a pillow and the thought that he'd never drink again, but by the looks of it, he was either dead drunk or had gone mentally with the wind.

When he finally managed to open his eyes and blink the tears out of them, he found himself standing in the middle of a dark familiar-looking room, with books scattered across the floor along with torn pages and shards of glass.

Dean shook his head carefully. "Come on, Dean. Snap out of it!" He gave himself a slap on the cheek and when it didn't seem to clear up anything he repeated it with a lot more force. Stars erupted and he could have sworn he heard a singing choir from somewhere on the other side of the walls. "That was smart…" He stated numbly to himself.

Something made a clicking sound behind him. Correction. Make that someone.

He swung around, again feeling his stomach doing what felt like a hasty tap-dance around his bowels. At this point, beyond confused, his green eyes widened at the sight of a ragged man who leaned against the wall.

"Who are you?" Dean asked in a hoarse voice.

"The devil." The man replied.

"No, seriously, dude. Who the hell are you?"

"Seriously, dude," the man mimicked, mockingly. "I am the Devil. Satan. Lucifer and so on, so on…" He smiled broadly. "I prefer Lucy."

Dean widened his eyes slightly. Creases appeared on his forehead as he raised his eyebrows and lips parted somewhat baffled. "Okay... Then I'm in hell, right? What the hell kind of hell is this? Did I end up in the naughty librarian section?"

He looked at the scattered books and felt momentarily pleased with himself. At least he still had his wit. Maybe not his dignity or sanity, but in hell you take what you get!

Lucifer smiled, cocking his head.

"Close enough. You are in the future. Or more accurately, the real present. The real present of the real Sam and Dean Winchesters."

Dean blinked. Then he smiled and it dripped with sarcasm.

"Ah, the real Dean Winchester... Okay... Then who am I? The smoking man? Deep throat? No, wait, I am just a figment of real Dean's mind!"

Lucifer smiled and replied in a snarky wise-ass tone; "Actually, you're a figment of a fangirl's mind, I was a figment of Sam's mind and the real Cas has long since lost his mind, so I guess it's all fair!"

Dean frowned and looked around, "Angels. Damned angels are behind this. This stinks of their mojo…"

Then he froze. Bobby just came through the wall.

No, not through the door, the freaking wall!

"What the hell?" he growled.

Bobby stopped. For about a second he almost copied Dean's look of confusion, only he wore it gracefully instead of looking like an owl with a slight hint of rabies.

"Dean? I thought you went with Sam?"

"Bobby, are you dead?" Dean's voice lowered to almost a whisper.

"What? I've been dead for quite a while now, but thanks for noticing." Bobby shook his head angrily. "Oh, and by the way, the next time you want to finish off all my good beer, keep in mind that I can't drink anymore and the least you can do is say Thank You!"

Dean felt goose bumps rise on his arms and shuttered.

"I don't drink beer!"

"What are you on about, you idjit, the two of you finished my entire storage this weekend!"

"No, I did not, I promise, I didn't drink, I'm not drunk, I don't drink!" On the brink of hysteria Dean yelled it out to no one in particular, just in case someone in particular was actually listening. This was a hoax. A big good scam, another angel party of fun made on his expense! There was no way in hell he was going to give Cas an excuse to repeat history with certain changes.

After a moment of silence, Bobby narrowed his eyes to slits and asked, "Dean, are you stoned?"

Lucifer fell into a fit of light giggles in the background as Dean, with wide green eyes, raised his head towards Bobby and mouthed a silent; "Huh?"

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Oh, come on... Really?"

He couldn't believe it. One thing was when he had at one point been sent back in time by an angel who seemed hell-bent on softly ripping his heart out, but sent into the future? And not a grim post-apocalyptic future either, but a future where a certain blue eyed angel on a power trip had let lose a bunch of man-eating Stepford lizards?

"So, you're saying that this is the future, I mean, real me's present; Sam's been Lucifer's bitch for a year, you're dead and Cas is in rehab?"

"Psych ward, Dean." Bobby made an apologetic gesture by tipping his head and raising his hands, palms out.

"Don't worry about Sam, he'll be uncured soon, I promise that," Lucifer interjected.

"Zip it, Lucy…" Bobby snarled.

Dean gulped at the sight of an empty beer bottle near the kitchen door. He'd gotten his senses back, or at least some of it, and now recognized this as Bobby's house. It should have been obvious from the start, but his eggs had been severely scrambled, not to mention his fried eye-balls.

"And don't even get me started on the good part," Dean continued. "I'm an alcoholic and we're hunting monster reptiles with soap allergy. Something smells fishy about this whole gig!"

"You're catching up fast, Dean. I salute you." Lucifer grinned shrewdly and touched the end of a beer bottle to his forehead. "Though you forgot to mention the part where these things you claim happened never did in this reality, at least not the part about the night-terrors and groping angels! Either you have a mental problem or this is looking more like a case of alternate reality than time travel."

Dean shuddered again, it was all getting more and more confusing by the minute. He focused the one thing he needed to understand the most;

"Look, Bobby, not to be insensitive, but how come you're still around? What, my lighter flunked again? World's out of salt? Don't tell me the lizards stole it!" He raised an eye-brow expectantly.

Bobby suddenly looked uncomfortable. "About that, I kinda left a little of myself in my old drinking flask and sorta left it for you. The other you." He made a face at Lucifer who was still snickering behind them.

"Bobby, what were you thinking?" Dean started angry, but then frowned. "I can't believe it. Son of a bitch was right. I should have stopped drinking! This is all my fault. Uh, other me's fault!"

Suddenly, out of the blue, the door burst open, and Cas strode in. Speaking of blue, his eyes were wide with confusion.

He stopped abruptly at the sight of the people in front of him and narrowed said blue eyes, disbelief all over his worn face. Can disbelief be worn all over a trench coat? If so, Castiel would have worn the most disbelieving trench coat in history of man and angels alike. If not, never mind!

"Ah, the trench coat! Finally we're a party worth pooping!" Lucifer declared with a cheer and threw some multicolored confetti around himself.

Dean shook his head again. Maybe he had gotten it wrong. It did seem more and more like he was the one in the psych ward. Hell couldn't possibly be this imaginative. What happened to the hooks and fire?

"We ran out." Lucifer stated and pursed his lips to a pout.

"Dean." Cas almost growled at him, but his eyes was filled with the same confusion Dean felt, and weirdly enough, concern. "I don't know what has happened, but something is wrong."

"Really?" Dean feigned surprise. "What gave it away, the confetti or the fact that I'm in a room with my dead father figure, Lucifer himself and you, and I am still not drinking?"

Cas paused, his blue eyes searching him. "It's good that you're not drinking, Dean."

"Yeah, drinking leads to dead father figures and we wouldn't want that." Lucifer said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Oops, too late."

"Suck on it, brother," Cas said, angrily.

Dean's mouth opened and Bobby frowned, looking shell-shocked.

The angel turned towards them.

"What?"

"Dude, a little out of character?" Dean remarked, shaking his head.

"Ya think?" Bobby added.

"Encouraging to incestuous activities? How angelic... But we wouldn't want to get this M-rated, now do we?" Lucifer replied dryly.

"I believe the rating of this story was determined a long time ago," Cas replied, locking eyes with Dean, who gulped slightly.

Sometimes he really longed for the simple days, when all that threatened him was a deranged Meg with a hunting knife. "Dean, we need to get back. We don't belong here," the angel continued.

"Then how about you zap us back, with your angel mojo. Not that this isn't fun, but it's getting way weird even for us!" Dean contemplated pulling a gun on himself, but unfortunately he was unarmed at the moment. In any case, torture didn't sound tempting either. Besides, there was one good thing he still had going on. No Uriel! Thank God for small mercies.

"By the way, where's your buddy? The funniest angel in the garrison?" He swallowed.

At first Castiel seemed to frown at him, like if him asking the question was odd somehow, but then he replied; "Dead. He betrayed me. I never saw it coming." The angel looked down and a dark shadow passed over his face.

"Dude, seriously?" Lucifer pulled a face. "You didn't see it coming?"

"I did not." Cas blinked once.

Lucifer laughed so hard a few tears actually ran down his cheeks.

"And I thought Dean here was a knucklehead. You two make one hell of a pair, pun intended!"

Dean felt a twinge of anger pass through him.

"Don't you mock Cas. You really aren't the one to judge anyone's intelligence."

"How's that, kiddo?"

"Well, for starters, you're not ruling the world, you're ruling confetti."

"Wow, Dean. That pierced my heart. You are the suave king of insults, I bow to you."

"Just don't bow too deeply, Uriel might come back." Dean muttered, to which Cas narrowed his eyes slightly and replied; "My brother is dead, Dean."

Dean threw his hands pointedly out towards the people on each side of him and made a noise somewhere between a snort and a sigh.

"Guys, let's focus on the problem at hand, shall we?" Bobby said angrily. "You two are not where you are supposed to be, now get the both of you out before you make a mess of things!" He directed the last part at Cas.

Lucifer smiled and threw more confetti around. Dean took a sweeping look around the room and his eyes landed on the confetti sand-castle that had appeared by the fallen angel's feet.

"I can't get us back. My ...mojo... has been ... Muted," Cas muttered and lowered his chin.

"You tried switching batteries?" Dean asked dryly.

"This isn't helping, Dean!" Cas replied in an angry tone.

"Well, screw me, but last time I saw you that's exactly what you were doing... !"

Dean stopped himself and felt his face go red. "Screwed me over, I mean. You screwed me over…"

His voice trailed into silence and was taken over by Lucifer's gulps for air as he had laughed himself into a coughing fit. Bobby sat down on a chair and put his face in his hands.

Castiel took two steps closer to Dean, his questioning stare was replaced with understanding, and that again was swept aside by anger. Dean shrunk back a little.

"What I did back then, you rightly deserved! You were being an insolent, obstinate, audacious, contrarious, pertinacious, cantankerous…" he paused, struggling to find more insulting words to fling at him. "... mud-monkey!"

"You threatened to kill my brother!" Dean felt raw anger pour out from deeply sobered corners.

"He would unleash Lucifer!" Cas retorted, matching the anger evenly. "We thought we had no choice!"

"Heeello? Unleashed here!" Lucifer threw his hands out.

"You sent me back into the past, forced me to watch my mother kiss her own father…" Dean continued, rage spreading all over his pretty face.

"Again with the incest, what's the matter with you people?" Lucifer made a kissing face.

"You refused to serve heaven!" Cas came closer. The two of them were now standing face to face, blue eyes drilling into dark hazel, intense energy lashing back and forth in waves between them.

"Heaven was full of dicks!"

Noses almost touching as their anger pressed them together.

Lucifer made a fisted motion towards his mouth and bumped his tongue against the inside of his left cheek. Bobby just stared at the spectacle, wishing he was alive so that he could shoot down a drink or a bullet. Whatever was closest.

"I dragged you out of hell…" Cas began, but was interrupted by Dean sneering, "...and you threw me right back in it!"

They stood quietly for a moment, an inch from each other, staring into the other's eyes. Dean was breathing heavily, while Cas stood perfectly still like carved in fleshy stone.

"Oh, come on, make out already!" Lucifer almost yelled, before adding silkily, "I think you both really need it!"

They turned their faces slowly to stare at him.

The fallen angel shrugged and rolled his shoulders.

"I'm just saying it cause I care…"


	6. On the Road Again

Chapt. 6

"_**On the Road Again"**_

On that last note the door to the hallway opened abruptly with a loud creaking that bounced off the walls around them. Sam and Dean entered Bobby's study, but stopped just inside without closing the door behind them. Several long moments went without anyone saying a word as they all stared with mouths agape at each other. Then in unison they all erupted;

"Uh, Bobby?"

"Sam?"

"Dean?"

"Uhm, me?"

_Wow. Chaos. Let's for good measure throw in a;_

"Cas?"

_Okay, now we're getting somewhere!_

"Bobby, what's going on?" Sam asked hesitantly.

The older hunter, now obviously deceased, cocked his head and made his very best "bitch-face" as he replied in a grouchy tone; "Well, considering the two of you idjits left me here to rot, I sincerely say; bite me!"

_Real_ Dean made a sound of exhaustion and shared a long look with his brother.

"Bobby, dude, come on. It's been a long season," he said.

Apparently now declared _NotSoReal_ Dean laughed dryly.

"Okie dokie, that's it. I'm so out of here. Listen, buddy, I'm the alternate reality you from the past. You need to get on the wagon and I am desperately needing to get off it! So, have fun! Good times!"

With that he turned and left the room.

_Real_ Dean scratched his head, while briefly giving the departing him's back a confused look, before it disappeared through the door-way. With a bewildered expression he turned back to Bobby, who rolled his shoulders in a quiet resigned gesture.

Feeling somewhat ignored, Cas exclaimed pointedly, "What he said!"

Then he stalked after _NotSoReal_ Dean to the hallway, brushing past the confused brothers.

When the last thread of trench coat had disappeared, Real Dean tilted his head and exhaled slowly.

"Bobby, we need to find Dick!"

_NotSoReal_ Dean's head appeared suddenly in the open doorway, a look of uttermost confusion and panic on his face.

Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, we're getting desperate. What we're doing is not enough."

_NotSoReal_ Dean blinked twice and his mouth opened.

_Real _Dean's eyes flared up with intense fire as he continued;

"When I find Dick, I'm gonna …"

He stopped speaking at the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor hard as someone ran down the hall and out of the house, the entrance door slamming almost off it's hinges.

"What was that about?" Sam asked bewildered.

"It was probably you, Sammy, I told you to lay off those beans." _Real_ Dean replied in a grumpy tone.

Bobby shook his head again. At least Lucifer had disappeared as well. Not that the ghost could remember exactly when the fallen angel had appeared to begin with. He shrugged and the idea fell from his mind altogether. He barely had a moment to wonder why Dean and Sam hadn't reacted more to the alternate Dean and Cas, before that too evaporated from his mind.

"We need to find Cas!" Dean growled through gritted teeth.

The angel looked at him with an expression of deep concern. "I am right behind you, Dean."

"The real Cas. I mean, the other Cas. Jesus, man! This is a frigging nightmare!"

He stopped, the green eyes widening as he blinked ferociously.

"God, my eggs feel totally scrambled. Seriously, are you sure you didn't send us here, by accident or something?"

"I did not ..."

"... have sex with that woman, yeah, sure, whatever you say, man." Dean stopped blinking, before scratching his head. Then light flickered back into his eyes as he suddenly smiled. "My baby … We go back, steal the Impala ..."

"Dean ..."

"... I mean, it wouldn't really be stealing, it's my car goddammit!" Dean ignored the angel trying to get his attention. "We steal my baby, get the hell out of Dodge, find the real you, and ..."

"Dean!"

"What?"

They were suddenly standing face to face again, the angel leaning in on him in a way that made Dean feel just a little uncomfortable. Or would have, if he hadn't been so shell-shocked from this whole "alternate reality"- thing. His face went red with anger and frustration as the angel leaned even further towards him and spoke in a calm voice.

"Your car is gone."

"What`ya mean gone?" Dean shook his head. "If she's been busted up again, I swear to God, I am seriously going to kill him. I mean, myself." He made a pained face. "Other me!"

"No, Dean. It is gone. Disappeared. Removed from this reality's storyline."

Castiel pressed his lips together and arched his eyebrows in the best "blue eyed puppy"-look the angel could muster, in a desperate attempt to show empathy and compassion, as the man in front of him now looked like someone who had just been told his wife had been kidnapped, and possibly brutally butchered, by a deranged psychopath.

"Why?" Dean asked in a weak voice, his quivering lips making the word barely audible.

"Someone spoke of a french gamble mistake, though I did not understand that reference. Perhaps it was used to pay gambling debt in a french casino. Humans are very illogical beings, I don't understand much of anything you people do."

Feeling overwhelmed, Dean raised his chin, bloody murder now written all over his face.

"Oh, no ... No, no, no! I am not accepting this! I am getting my baby back if it's the last thing I do."

Castiel looked like he was going to protest, but Dean cut him off as soon as the lips parted.

"Shut your pie-hole! I don't care if I am destined to be an angel's butt-monkey or even if I have to do it sober. No one screws with my girl!"

"Aw, isn't he just the cutest thing?"

Lucifer stood leaned against a tree, his yellow teeth biting into a red apple and juice glistening down his cheek. He smiled at his brother, chewing with an open mouth. Castiel frowned at him, before turning slowly to Dean. "Is this what they are referring to when they speak of humping the fish?"

Dean groaned again. "Jumping the shark, Cas. Jumping the shark!"

He turned around and started towards the automobile graveyard ahead of them.

"And hell if I know! Let's go find you. Then you can help me find my baby. Maybe even my demon-loving brother back in Funky Town. I swear, if I get out of here, I'll forgive him everything. He can do every demon we meet, male or female, from Kansas to Paris!"

"I think someone's marbles are loosening," Lucifer commented, with a smirk.

"I don't see what expensive stone has to do with Dean," Castiel said angrily, leaving his laughing brother behind as he hurried to follow Dean.

It didn't take Dean long to find a suitable car, even less time to hot-wire it back to life. It wasn't quite the Impala, but it ran and had a full gas tank. It would have to do. As soon as the engine roared, the stereo flickered on and the sound of Celine Dion cracked through the old speakers.

_In the middle of the night_

_I'm going down `cause I adore you_

_I want to floor you _

Dean hit the off button so hard it felt like his finger broke with the impact. The angel tilted his head at him with a slight frown.

"Dean, I like that song. Why did you turn it off?"

"You got to be kidding me ... Because it sucks!"

"But, Dean ..."

"No way, man. We are not listening to that crap while I am still breathing. And if you start singing I swear I will punch you in the face."

Castiel`s brow creased, his blue eyes narrowing with annoyance.

"You tried that already. My face almost broke your wrist."

The hunter gave him a smile and a sideways nod as he replied gleefully;

"But it was worth it!"

"Maybe," the angel tried with a sigh, "we should set aside our past differences and ..."

Dean, going through the radio-frequencies, finally managed to drown Castiel`s voice out with some heavy electric guitars that sent vibrations through the steering wheel as he drove the car onto the open road.

It was a short-lived relief, as the radio suddenly died down and was replaced by the same silky voice, now coming from the back-seat.

"He's right, you know." Lucifer sighed with pleasure. "Celine Dion, one of my favorite torture devices. An eternity of the Power of Love and the subject is ripe to start gnawing the flesh off his own arms. It's a beautiful thing!"

The fallen angel leaned back and placed his arms behind his neck, singing softly;

_Even though there may be times_

_It seems I'm far away_

_Never wonder where I am_

_`Cause I am always, by your siiide!_

Dean moaned in despair and began banging his head against the steering wheel between his hands.

"Oh, God, please kill me now."

As Castiel gave him a small look, the hunter's knuckles went white in response.

"Don't you say a word, or so help me!"

_Sometimes I am friiightened _

_but I'm ready to learn_

_Of the power of looove_

Dean tried jabbing the radio a few times, thinking it might be easier just to run the damned car into the nearest tree. He'd consider it on the way. Sounded a hell of a lot more pleasant than gnawing his arms off.


	7. Know It All

**Chapter 7**

"**Know-it-all"**

"How the hell would you know?" Dean growled.

The stereo had died a slow and painful death a few miles ago and now the sing song voice of the fallen angel was beginning to grate on his already bruised nerves.

"I told you, I was in his head. I was in both of their heads and a part of me still is. Singing sweet songs in the minds of the lost and broken." Lucifer pulled a face of feigned sorrow. "It breaks my heart!"

Castiel sighed deeply. "May I suggest that we do not trust my brother?"

"You may shut your pie-hole, like I've already told you. Maybe I'll regret this later, but for now you are as impotent as an armless Norman Bates, so I'll take my chances!"

His anger was starting to wear him down just as sure as the angel in the backseat so he struggled with keeping an edge in his voice.

"I know where Castiel is," Lucifer repeated, a smirk spreading on his face.

"So do I," Cas stated simply.

"The other Castiel, possibly the real Castiel," Dean growled. "Dude, seriously, I'm a broken record here!"

Castiel frowned at him. "I don't understand that expression."

Dean shot him a look.

"You know, you were doing a lot better with the whole adapting to human culture thing before we got zapped off to this place!"

"Perhaps your... eggs... were not the only ones to be scrambled, Dean. It may surprise you, but I do find this annoying as well. As far as I was aware, there's only one reality. No one ever told me otherwise."

For some reason the idea of scrambled angels seemed very funny to Dean and he burst out chuckling.

"What is so funny?"

"Last time I checked, you found invading my dreams with... well, the downright naughty... funny."

Castiel cocked his head and squinted slightly at him. "Last time, you took it a lot more seriously."

"Yeah, well, I guess this little trip is putting it all into perspective. I mean, we are driving a piece-of-crap car with Lucifer singing in the backseat on our way to wake up a mentally deep-fried angel. And at this point I think I'd rather do the naughty again with you than listen to another minute of ballad maestro back there."

At that Lucifer stopped singing and perked his ears.

"I would pay to see that."

"I knew you were a peeping Tom." Dean's nostrils flared. "What's the matter, you haven't gotten any action lately? No hot chicks in my brother's head? Or maybe that's the problem. His head is full of hot chicks, but you don't swing that way?"

"Insulting me with homophobia, Dean?" Lucifer smirked again, his narrow eyes widening in mock surprise.

"I'm not homophobic," Dean stated with a small snort. "I'm theophobic. Look it up, chuckles."

Seeing Castiel`s slightly amused look, he shrugged. "I read it on the internet. It applies to angels too."

"Back to the point, Deanie boy. I can tell you, _tell you, tell you_, were to find Castiel. The real Castiel." Lucifer leaned in between them and winked at Cas who stared impassively back at him.

"Okay, say for the sake of pie that I actually believe you know where Cas is, why would you tell us? People never really accused you of being a humanitarian" Dean's voice was filled with disgust and he didn't care if it showed.

"Let's say, for the sake of evil and all the goodies that follow, that it is not in my best interest to make things difficult for you, would you believe that, Deanie boy?"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Dean growled. "How about you just give me a straight answer?"

Lucifer's eyes twinkled. "Let's keep it straight, huh, Dean?"

Dean turned halfway towards Cas, with slightly raised eyebrows.

"May I strangle your brother?"

"If you are physically capable of it, I will not object."

"Now now, Dean. First the incestuous remarks, then the violence. Not that I don't appreciate it, but it's really not necessary to please me. I would help you purely out of the goodness of my heart." Lucifer stated matter-of-factually and blinked.

That earned a look of downright annoyance from Castiel and Lucifer corrected himself with a smug smile. "Okay, dokey, maybe not from the goodness of my heart, but I know some things that you boys do not. I am not inclined to share it with you o` so soon, but you'll get it in tidbits. I give you my word, in the name of my Father, who's a dick-less shithead, it is in my best interest that things go after your best interest."

"Huh?" Dean retorted, now somewhat confused.

"I'll make this simple for you. This is a whole lot bigger than what you two knuckleheads can imagine. In fact, this could change everything." He tapped his left index finger to his forehead. "I'm inside of Castiel`s head. Not you, sugar. The real Castiel. Your reality, isn't real at all. But here's the nut in the crackhead..." he smiled broadly. "You, little brother, and Real Castiel has a connection. And Dean here is connected to him as well, through you. Which is how I am here and why you can see me."

"Bobby could see you." Dean said blankly.

"Bobby is a ghost. I'm a materialized mind-fragment. Same difference."

"So, you'll help us because Castiel is connected with Castiel. Yeah, that sure cleared that whole confusion up. Thanks for nothing." Dean almost sneered with frustration.

"Let's just ride this to the end, shall we? I promise, you'll understand."

Castiel and Dean shared a look. It wasn't likely, but maybe hell did freeze over once in a while. There was the next ice age to look forward to after all.

"Where is he?" Dean sounded exasperated.

"Angel Heart Mental Hospital, New Orleans." He raised an eyebrow, perfectly mimicking Dean's trademark arch, then flashed a row of yellow teeth. "You're not getting the reference, are you?"

He sighed at their empty, confused expressions. "Okay, okay, Northern Indiana State Hospital located in … drum rolls, please … ; Indiana!" He threw his hands out and beamed at them.

Dean turned his eyes back towards the road and Castiel lent back to watch the landscape pass by through the dirt-splattered window at his side.

"What, no applause?" Lucifer sounded disgusted.

"Get used to it, chuckles, it's a long drive to Indiana," Dean replied with a sideways nod. The stereo suddenly flared back to life and AC/DC's angry guitarist once again vibrated Dean's steering-wheel and he tapped his fingers in tune against it.

*SN *SN *SN

To my readers, I greatly apologize that this fic never got finished until now. I had a hard time writing for a while and gave it up. Now I have all the chapters finished, and will be releasing them very quickly. I'll just do some spell-checking and editing before putting each of them out. If there is still someone out there who has read it from the beginning, I applaud you and hope you enjoy the ending. There will be 13 chapters. They are all done and coming out soon at a theater near you!


	8. Down the Yellow Brick Road

_**Chapter 8**_

"Down the Yellow Brick Road"

«Okay, that was weird,»

Dean scratched the back of his head as they left the car and began walking towards the hospital entrance.

«I mean, no traffic whatsoever. Can't wait to see how we'll have to pay for that.»

«Not every incident is about cosmic justice, Dean.»

Castiel held back his frustration. He was trying to be patient with Dean, all things considered. Not to mention the not-so-mentioned guilt he felt over certain actions he had made in the past. However, Dean was not dropping his guard, and to be fair, the angel couldn't blame him.

As they walked towards the entrance they passed by a young man dressed in a mint-green jumpsuit hiding in a crouched position behind a tall hedge, sucking devotedly on an unlit cigarette.

"Those things will kill you," Dean remarked carefully to the twitchy guy, who squinted up at him and replied;

"They'll have to get in line. I've got the CIA on my tail."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at the sight of a small plastic card attached to the front upper-part of his jumpsuit, where the word _Delusional _was written in tidy and clear letters.

"Isn't that a Harry Potter reference?" Lucifer suggested in a snarky tone. "Something about a sinking boat?"

"Dude, that's not cool." Dean threw him a dirty look.

"Oh, forgive me, I didn't know you were a fan, Deanie Boy. So, exactly which trunk do you feel Hermione should ..."

"Seriously, you really don't want to piss of fan-girls. Trust me, they won't care that you're some hotshot super-angel; they'll tear it off and feed it to you." Dean shook his head. A vague memory slid past the back of his mind. Something about reading scary porn-stories on the internet.

He shuddered.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Cas asked bewildered.

"Oh, so now he cares!" Dean muttered.

The hospital on the inside looked like any other. Nothing really off-putting about it, other than the fact that it was a hospital. Dean didn't really have any fond memories connected to this specific scenery, rather the opposite. Though the hot reaper chick could do with a reappearance. Rather her than that ghastly dude who stalked him around when they tried to get help from a faith healer a few years back. Now that, he remembered. Why the hell did he remember clearly some random reaper, but recent events still felt scrambled?

"It's the zapping through time and realities. It can make you bloat up with constipation or take a memory or two. It'll come back ..." Lucifer shrugged and winked at him. "... maybe."

"What is the last thing you remember, Dean?" Castiel asked, squinting at him.

Dean coughed uncomfortably.

"You... pillows... threats of night-terrors..."

He swallowed and avoided looking at Lucifer as he threw the question back to Castiel. "And you?"

"I have retained all my memories up to the point where we were … zapped."

"And...?" Dean was almost afraid of hearing the answer. If Castiel had thrown him into another one of those nightmares and still remembered it then someone owed him a big cosmic payback!

"I discovered Uriel had betrayed me. You..." He stopped, looking uncomfortable. "You had some problems."

"It was a Yorkie, wasn't it?" Dean closed his eyes.

Castiel frowned. "No, the problem was not a person from New York."

"That's not … It wasn't Wolfman, was it? I think I remember ..."

The angel made a frustrated sound and threw a small glance in Lucifer's direction.

"Don't look at me for help, I'm finding this hilarious," the fallen angel declared and leaned against a column in the entrance hall.

"Dean, you and I ... Things were going better. We tried to work together, but your brother was involved with a demon and you failed to save him."

"Sam died?" Dean asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"No, he married the bitch!" Lucifer exclaimed, as if he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"They got married in Vegas, moved to this big nice house and left you to clean up their mess and Lilith. Happy? Now that you know? Oh, and they bought a Yorkie!" He bared his yellow teeth in a broad smile at the obvious annoyance that momentarily lingered on the frustrated features of his brother.

Castiel shrugged it off and continued. "You didn't take it very well. And after Uriel teamed up with Alastair and put your friend Bobby's house on fire ..."

"Okay, that's enough! So you're saying that not only do I have nothing to go back to or anything to look forward to, but we are waking up a comatose you to save this reality, while ours is screwed all to hell?"

Dean gritted his teeth and looked murderous.

Castiel just looked helpless there he stood.

"Dean, my Father must have a plan, there must be a reason for ..."

"Save the preaching for the choir-boys, Cas, I'm outta here..."

"Aren't you forgetting something, Deanie boy?"

Dean stopped and whirled around, throwing his hands out angrily.

"What?!"

"Your car? Your … baby? After losing everything and getting stuck here, don't you at least deserve your car?" Lucifer smiled smug like a cat seeing Dean having a silent mental argument with himself as he gritted his teeth at them.

"Fine, we'll wake up, Cas, but if he can't tell me where my friggin` car is, then I'm going back to ghost Bobby, even if I have to hear myself talk about dicks and ..."

He looked downright wounded and on the verge of tears when he flung his arms helplessly down by his sides. "Oh, God only knows what else goes on around here."

"Good boy." Lucifer rubbed his hands together. He didn't even flinch at the hostile glare Castiel shot at him, but started singing in a low girlish voice;

_I'm not a boy, _

_not quite an angel_

"Not again," Dean groaned and leaned over the desk enclosed by glass and metal. "Hello? Anyone in here?"

A short cough sounded from behind them. Dean turned around, frowning slightly when he saw who had made it.

"Deja vu," he said slowly.

"Ges...und...heit," Lucifer responded equally slowly.

The male doctor was tall, wore a white lab coat and a pair of brown cowboy boots. Dean shook his head. "Have you ever been on TV?"

The man looked dumbfounded at him. "What?"

"Nothing. We're here to visit someone. Looks just like him." He gestured vaguely towards Castiel.

"Ah, our Emanuel. I am sorry, but only family is allowed to visit him at this time. I assume you are a twin-brother?" he asked, and brought a notepad and a pen from his pocket.

Castiel hesitated, before shooting an uncertain look at Dean who nodded somewhat violently. "Ehm, yes."

"Your name is?" The doctor scribbled something on the notepad, but then looked up when Castiel didn't answer. The angel's lower eyelids twitched as he struggled for words.

"Castiel, how nice to see you again!" A raspy female voice rung out from behind the good doctor and Meg appeared, wearing a nurse uniform and matching hat.

Dean's eyebrows knitted heavily together, before one eyebrow went sky high and deep creases appeared in lines over his brow.

"Meg?"

"Hi there, Handsome."

"Uhm, I'm gonna need a last name," the doctor stated.

"It's just Castiel. Like Cher! It's legal."

"Dean, I don't know this demon," Castiel whispered nervously into Dean's ear, who swatted him away with a hand while straining his face into what was supposed to be a smile.

"This is his twin brother, doctor. He's good to pass." Meg said sweetly, her full lips a crimson red.

"Okay, you can go visit your brother. Your friend stays in the lobby."

"Hey, wait a second ..." Dean protested.

"Only family can visit. Who are you?" The doctor asked, notepad and pen ready.

"Uhm, I'm... " Dean made a strained grimace. He was usually a fluent liar, but with the demon so close and staring at him with that creepy smile on her face, it suddenly became really hard to come up with a good answer.

"He's his partner." Meg said, with a small wink.

Dean drew his breath in, but held off any signs of annoyance.

"Partner?" The doctor asked confused.

"Partner." She repeated, this time blinking a little at the doctor who finally got the picture she was selling him.

"Uhm, I'm afraid, uh, I don't think our rules include ..."

"Now, now, Doctor." Meg said in a berating voice. "We wouldn't want to cause an incident again, would we? This kind of thing never looks good in the papers."

"Right," he muttered, before stifling a quiet cough. "Name?"

"Cliff Williams," Dean replied off the top of his head.

"Okay, elevator to the third floor, I am sure Nurse Masters can follow you." Then he scurried off, looking slightly dismayed.

"Homophobic little rodent." She rolled the last word off her tongue. "Nice boots, though."


	9. Down the Rabbit Hole

_**Chapter 9**_

"**Down the Rabbit Hole"**

They followed Meg down a corridor to a glass elevator. Oddly enough, the demon didn't follow them inside, but took a left without looking back at them.

"Uhm, am I the only one finding it strange that she seemed to forget us after like five seconds?" Dean remarked, a frown spreading over his face.

"No. More importantly, Dean, why do you know this demon and how did she know my name?" Castiel replied, almost copying his frown.

"You guys don't belong here. A part of their nuggets knows that, so it shuts you out as soon as it can. Something about a paradox in a bottle and all that juicy fruity stuff." Lucifer said from behind them as the doors of the elevator closed.

"Then why did she just help us back there, genius?"

"Maybe there's a higher power at work," Lucifer retorted somewhat mysteriously, making a vague hand movement upwards. "I bet you could figure it out if you just strained that peanut of yours just a little more."

Dean just shook his head. "Give me a break."

The elevator opened on the third floor, and they found themselves in another set of green corridors. A male nurse passed them absently, starring at his wrist watch.

"That guy's gonna come home to his wife humping the pizza-man," Lucifer whistled

Ignoring him, Dean turned around and whistled sharply. "Uhm, hey, male nurse dude!"

The nurse stopped, and while pushing his glasses further up on his nose with a scrawny finger, threw them an irritated glare. Dean didn't look the slightest bit apologetic.

"We were told Emanuel was on this floor?"

The nurse threw another glance at his watch.

"I was off duty 5 minutes ago, but I'll take you past his room. Don't expect any conversation though, the guy is catatonic and hasn't reacted to anything for a month. He's been diagnosed with Schizophrenia and nothing we've done has helped. You family?"

"Would we be here if we weren't?" Dean answered cryptically. The nurse shrugged and waved for them to follow him.

They passed by several rooms. In one of them a thin man, with long ragged hair and facial scars from the corners of his mouth sat muttering to himself.

"Too soon... too soon..."

Dean cocked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

As they passed by a larger room with couches and a television set in the corner, a news report flashed on the screen with the headlight;

_President Obama Supports Gay Marriage_

"Excellent!" Lucifer hollered. "Now all the self-proclaimed _Christian_ hypocrites will start burning posters and be all hateful." He rubbed his hands with glee. "I love hateful people, they make me all warm and fuzzy inside."

Castiel threw him a dirty look.

At the end of the hall the nurse pointed to a closed door on their left.

"He's in there. Just don't stay too long, visiting hours are closing soon."

Dean opened the door and turned on the light.

"Whoa... Dude, you've looked better."

Castiel, the real one as they claimed, was pale and lay motionless on a bed near a window covered by white curtains in a shade that matched the color of his face. The blue eyes were open, staring blankly. Walking closer, Dean saw nothing in them. No life, no sign of awareness.

"Yup, that's catatonic, alright!" Lucifer commented happily.

Castiel walked up to stand next to Dean.

"What did he do to me?"

Dean just shook his head and raised both eyebrows.

"You wanna see?" Lucifer teased with a pleased smile.

They ignored him.

Dean walked closer to the bed and leaned slightly over it. No, right, him. The supposed real Cas, if it wasn't complete BS.

"Cas?" He said loudly.

"Yes?" Castiel replied from behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath.

"I think he's talking to Veggie Cas, buddy." Lucifer whispered in his brother's ear. Then he straightened and mused to himself. "A veggie state, would that be California or Idaho?"

Castiel looked confused.

Someone passed by the door and soft footsteps sounded as he or she continued down the hall.

Dean leaned closer to the bed and tried again;

"Cas, can you hear me?"

There was nothing, but silence. Dean blew roughly on the absent angel's face, but not even his lashes flickered. He proceeded to prob the right cheek with his index finger. Then he tapped the angel twice on the forehead. "Hellooo? Earth to Cas. Bad mojo is going on. Hell's broken loose. My brother married a demon and unleashed Lucifer. End of the world!" He made an exasperated sound. "I lost my car, man... Please wake up!"

"I do not believe this is working, Dean."

"Geez, thanks, Cas, I hadn't noticed!" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. Of all the stupid angels to visit a psych ward with. "I need a beer!"

"Dean..." The angel said in a warning tone.

"Don't talk to me!"

"_Love is in the air_ ..." Lucifer hummed, confetti had once again mysteriously appeared in his hands and was now coloring the dirty-white linoleum floor.

"You seriously need to get some help," Dean said and brushed past him into the hallway, where he stopped and let his hands fall to his sides. The arched brows knitted together as a shadowy figure disappeared around the corner before he could get a good look at him.

"Dude, I think we're being stalked," he said, shooting a look back at Castiel.

"Stalked? Dean, half of the people we meet here does not even seem to realize we exist," Castiel replied, coming up behind him.

"I know, it's giving me the creeps."

"What is a creep?" Castiel looked confused.

Dean looked past him to Lucifer, who was now blowing soap bubbles towards the defenseless angel on the bed, carefully aiming for the eyes.

"Your brother, for starters..." Dean mumbled. "Look, we have no clue what to do here, I don't know how to fix you."

"Dean..." Castiel began, but stopped himself.

"We need some answers. I need a phone. Maybe if I'm lucky, Bobby can still pick up his. If ghost-Bobby can sit his ass down on a chair, he better be able to pick up a damned phone. If not I don't see any other alternatives than going back there."

As he didn't have any better ideas, Castiel followed Dean back down the hallway. Dean threw a look at the passing Nurse Meg Masters, but she didn't seem to notice him at all.

"This is too just too weird," he muttered.

"I still want to know why you know a demon," Castiel sounded disapproving.

"And I want to know why she's wearing a sexy nurse costume, but we don't have the time."

They had gotten all the way down the elevator, through the lobby and to the parking lot when the attack smacked them right on the rear end. The last thing Dean saw before something connected heavily with the back of his head was a man in a black suit, staring intensely at him from a car parked by the sidewalk in front of them.


	10. The Lovely Bones

Chapter 10

"**The Lovely Bones**"

As the blow connected with the back of his head, the intense pain sent waves of nausea down to the pit of his stomach and the stars appeared swiftly, before being replaced by white light, scorching through his eyes and mind. The headache numbed down to a soundless hum as he lost consciousness.

The white light didn't send him through time or space this time. Instead he found himself in a vividly real dream that began by a lake. Sunlight hit the water, which reflected it up on his face. Then it faded and a sequence of vivid flashes played before his eyes. It was like if he became a silent rooted spectator in the memories of someone else.

He recognized the first …

Son of a bitch.

_Wooden doors burst open and leaves blows in from the darkness outside. A man enters, blue eyes piercing them as he walks slowly into the room. Bullets hit his chest and stomach, but he don't even flinch. He sees himself in a firing position, pulling the trigger repeatedly, firing off what should have been lethal rounds against the angel._

_Castiel._

It fades and changes.

_He watches himself look down as the angel stands in front of him. The blue eyes locked on his face, searching it, and as he speaks his tone is one of slight bafflement._

"_You don't think you deserve to be saved."_

_It switches again. This time the whole scenery changed with them. It's still night, but outside by a road surrounded with dark trees. Dean sees himself stand motionless with a look of uttermost defeat and grief on his face. His eyes is filled with tears when the angel places a hand on his shoulder. The angel's eyes shows compassion and understanding, and they stand there without words for a long moment with the hand still resting in a supportive gesture on the slumped shoulder._

The wave continued.

_The mute button turns off. He can hear birds in the trees around the park where the other him and Castiel sit on each their bench. The angel's voice sounds torn and hoarse when he speaks, looking down at the pavement._

"_My superiors have begun to question my sympathies."_

_He sees himself lying beaten in a hospital bed with thin tubes running from flaring nostrils to each side if the jaw. The angel sit in a chair watching him speak, with sympathy and concern obvious in the blue eyes. Tears fall from his red-edged eyes down past bruises on his cheek and down into the corner of his cut lip. The lower quivers and he turns his face away from the angel who watches him with a helpless expression on the darkly shadowed face._

_He sees a room with white walls and golden plates like the luxury suite of an expensive hotel. The angel stands with his arms helplessly down his sides, at the end of a long table. Castiel looks down and away as the other Dean stares at him with disbelief and anger plastered all over his features. He sees himself taking a step closer, leaning his head sideways to lock eyes with the lost-looking angel and the shame on Castiel`s face as he slowly raises his gaze to meet Dean's._

_The room remains the same, but now he is pressed against the wall, the angel holding him firmly as Dean nods to him from behind the hand clamped around his mouth. He sees Castiel take a step back and cut deeply into his forearm, painting in blood on the white wall. He sees the moment of focused determination drive the hands creating the last symbol as another man walks towards them and the white light when Castiel threw his palm upon the wall, banishing the other one._

_It changes to an open field, a ring of scorched earth under the other Dean, who is on his knees, face swollen almost into the unrecognizable and his one open eye full of fear and despair. The angel reaches out to touch him softly on the face, making the damage on the outside heal. Dean's lips moved and the angel smiles softly at him._

_They're in a hospital. Castiel is standing in front of the other him, blue eyes intensely locked on his green. The angel asks for his trust, but anger clouds his face when he is rejected with skepticism. He steps closer and Dean can hear his voice echo darkly as the angel draws closer to his face._

"_I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled and I did it – all of it – for you. And you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world. And I lost everything – for nothing."_

_Dean looks down, for a moment, before meeting his stare, shame and silence filling the short distance between them. Relief and gratitude takes anger's place when Dean gives him the amulet._

_Then it changes again. He sees Castiel hand the amulet back to him, stating it's worthless. Deeply disappointed and hurt the angel walks away._

_The angel sits with his head in his hands outside a motel. Dean hands him a box of aspirin and they talk of absent fathers._

_The room disappears with another flash of the white light and is replaced by a cellar with a safe room. Bobby's cellar. Bobby's safe room. The angel fearfully calls out for him, before looking through the cracks of a small barred window in the door. With panic in his eyes Castiel unlocks the door and steps into the room. He sees himself plant a bloody hand on circled symbols and the surprise and desperation on the angel's face as he screams when the white light hits him._

_A dark alley enclosed with brick walls stretches high on each side, wind blows trash and paper around in the background where a metal fence bars entrance from the other side. He sees himself be thrown against a brick wall, the angel's voice full of anger and resentment as he shouts at him. "I rebelled for this?" Castiel throws two hard punches into his face, each blow flinging his head to the side with the impact, before the angel grabs the scruff of his neck with both hands and sneers into his face. "So you could surrender to them?!" The angel yanks him forward and pushes him hard into the opposite wall, puts another blow into his stomach, blood dripping from the side of Dean's mouth. Castiel leans forcefully in again and growls into his face. _

"_I gave everything for you, and this is what you give to me?!"_

_He yanks him off the wall, hits him in the face and kicks out with every ounce of force he can muster. Dean flies into the fence and falls to the ground. He sees himself landing hard, bloody and beaten as the angel strides forwards to hover over him. He sees the fist of the angel's right hand clench as Castiel looks down, swallowing raw fury and contempt. Something else flickers across the blue eyes, as Dean painfully yells out for Cas to end it. The angel exhales slowly and the fist unclench at the fear and regret in the green eyes looking back up at him, blood pouring from parted lips. The angel leans down and almost softly presses two fingers against Dean's shoulder. He watched as Castiel straightens, at the way his shoulders slumps down and his blue eyes looks past the fence with fatigued realization. His lips press together as he bends his head and just stands there unmoving._

_Dean leaning against a wooden pole taking a swig of beer, marks still evident on his face as he stars into nothing, with the angel standing with his back against a wall, too ashamed to look at him._

_He hears himself telling Castiel that his plan is suicidal. The angel gives him a long stare before telling him it's preferable to watching Dean fail again, that he doesn't have faith in him anymore._

_He sees himself facing Sam and another man, sees a familiar coldness creep into Sam`s eyes with the unspoken threat of violence and death. Castiel appears, taking the attention by yelling at the other man and throwing a Molotov cocktail, causing him to evaporate in a surge of fire. He sees the soft look in the angel's eyes as he tells Dean he's got some time now. Then he sees Castiel explode at the snap of Sam`s finger and his own shocked torn face as the angel is obliterated._

_The dream suddenly feels different. Heavier. Darker. It leaks into him, a feeling of something tearing at his insides. He sees Castiel watch Dean silently from the background, himself raking moist leaf into a heap on the green lawn under a tree in a garden. The angel just stand there, emotions flickering over his face and a sharp pain playing out in the blue eyes. The moment stretches until the demon Crowley appears behind him. Then Castiel follows the demon with a last glance back at Dean._

_The heavy feeling intensifies. Claws from somewhere outside of his immobilized mind reaches through and pierce his ribs.._

_Bobby and Sam flees through the open door of a shaking building. He sees himself follow, but stop in a doorway, his eyes darting to Castiel who is still standing inside, watching them leave like there's nothing else he wants to do more than go with them. _

_Then he's in a corner, defending Castiel against the distrustful accusations from Sam and Bobby. Hearing hints of heart-ache in his own voice as he refutes their words. Castiel, unnoticed, watches him shamefully as he listens his defense plea._

_A circle of fire appearing around Castiel, who stands confused and alone, separated from his friend by holy fire. Disappointment and sadness on his own face as the angel refuses to meet his questioning stare. _

_Castiel standing in front of a white wall painted in bloody symbols. Wounds all over his face where the skin is disintegrating, blood on the scruff of his neck as he takes a last look back at him with deep regret and sorrow scarring the gruff voice, cutting through the words. "I'm sorry, Dean."_

_They echo as darkness takes over and the flashes fade._

_I'm sorry, Dean._

When his eyelids flung open, he took a deep breath, feeling moisture on his cheeks and a stinging in his eyes. Confusion built up in him and the only thing he could think was that someone ought to change out that flickering light in the ceiling.

The mocking voice of Lucifer breaks through.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he says with a wink. "You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat, who's in love with you."

Something clicks inside Dean and he pushes himself up into a sitting position, leaning heavily on his hands. He looks over at Castiel who stands in a corner, avoiding eye-contact, then turns to Lucifer, sitting crouched close to him with a smug smile on his face. Raising an eyebrow not-so-real Dean replies;

"Bite me."


	11. Doppelgangers

_**Chapter 11**_

"**Doppelgangers"**

They were held in what appeared to be a men`s locker room, though it was uncannily clean for the sort. Shortly after Dean woke up the door opened to reveal the man in the black suit. His brown hair was slicked back and there was an expression of frustration in the intelligent nougat browns. Behind him followed a thin, but well-endowed, woman with sharply picked eyebrows. When she raised them at him, Dean could have sworn he was looking at the living Betty Boop.

"Wow. I gotta say. I did not see this coming!" The man spoke with a soft voice, the word douche-bag might as well have been written all over his creasing forehead.

"Don't tear yourself a new one, we didn't either." Dean cocked an eyebrow at him. "Tell me, what was it we didn't see coming?"

The man smiled unpleasantly. "That has yet to be determined, but don't worry, I will figure this little mystery out. That is, unless the two of you are willing to simply tell me what I need to know? I am already aware your angel-buddy isn't quite himself. Lacking a bit of mojo, are we?"

"I'll tell you what you need to know," Dean replied dryly. The angel shot him a questioning look which he ignored.

"Your tie is hideous, and that Eau, eww, cologne stinks!"

Bette Boop`s lip-corners rose a fraction.

Castiel narrowed his eyes before deciding to join in.

"Yes, and the endowment of your woman is larger than her cranium."

Dean raised his eyebrows and turned to him with an open mouth. The angel shrugged his shoulders and blinked back.

She gave a slight sneer that made her Betty Boop face look contracted and creepy. The black dress she wore clung to her like undersized skin. It should have been a turn-on, only it wasn't. Man's gotta have his standards!

"Speaking of endowment, she likes bratwurst," Lucifer commented from behind Dean.

"Bratwurst?" Castiel squinted at him, which caused the woman to follow his gaze and laugh. "Your friend here, little Dean? A bit optimistic, don't you think?"

Dean pressed his lips together and threw a deadly glare at the stupefied angel, who gave a slight shake to his head and exclaimed angrily, "I don't know that reference, Dean!"

Lucifer chuckled and paced the room.

"Speaking of dick, ask the guy what his name is!"

Dean copied the angel's look and turned towards the man in the suit.

"Do we know you?"

The man scowled and dipped his hands into his pocket.

"I like games, Dean Winchester, but not when I am so close to getting together the masterpiece that will destroy your race."

Betty Boop`s eyes swept over Dean and searched the area behind him.

"Are you talking with someone else? Why do the two of you keep sneaking looks at that corner?"

The corner in question was very empty at the moment, as Lucifer had padded across the room to make rabbit ears behind her head and stick a finger up his nose. Dean stifled a small laugh, before coughing loudly. He exchanged a look with Castiel.

The man took an impatient step forward, but was interrupted by vibration in the inner pocket of his jacket. His face tensed to a deep scowl as whoever it was on the other end spoke. "Then stop them! I don't care if her face melted, someone is getting eaten and for your sake it better be them._" _

_He snapped the phone shut and spun on his heel out of the room. Betty Boop rushed after him, closing the door and locking it behind her._

_"Okay, someone's in a hurry..." Dean remarked, before walking up to the door to give it a small push. "Crap, this thing is solid. They've switched the old one out, it's like a panic room in here."_

_"Allow me." Lucifer snaked past him and winked. As his fingers touched the handle the lock clicked._

_They stared at him._

_"Dude, you're not supposed to be able to do that. Figment, remember?" Dean said befuddled._

_Lucifer smiled shrewdly. "Magic fingers!" He wiggled them in front of his face, Dean retracted from them, spooked. Even Castiel was weary at this new development of their shared hallucination._

_"Now, let's go! Ghosts to call, angels to wake, `member?" Lucifer feigned innocence and took a step to the side, away from the door._

_Dean pushed the door open with a sideways nod to himself._

_"This is too easy. It's never gonna end well, Dr. Evil. But I guess that's what you're hoping for."_

_"Oh, you have no idea, Dean," he chuckled in response._

_They walked down a narrow hall to it's end, where a set of stairs led up to a brightly lighted lobby. Glass wall separated areas in the lobby and glaring commercial plates showed Mr. Sunshine smiling a devil's smile at them._

_"Douche-bag..." Dean muttered._

_As they rounded a corner, they walked into a mirror. Well, an assumed mirror, until Dean saw his face contract with confusion and a flicker of annoyance and realized the person next to him was Sam, not Castiel._

_"Whoa..." Other Dean said, blinking once._

_"What?" Sam said, not having seen them, his gaze locked on a small laptop in his hands._

_Other Dean did a sideways nod and frowned._

_"Deja vu."_

_As the continued past them, Cas stepped quickly to the side when Sam almost walked straight into him._

_Dean raised his eyebrows when the other him threw half a glance back at them, lingering on Castiel`s face. Then he flash-froze into a grimace of vexed bewilderment as the angel gawked at the other him with an expression of dopey lovey "__you can see me__" usually worn by nervous 14 year old's. The soft stare contrasted with his starkly set features like Bambi with a shotgun._

_"Dude, seriously?!" he exclaimed, with a nervous twitch._

_Castiel turned his face to him look._

_"What?"_

_Dean rolled his eyes looking like he was going to cry._

_"Never mind. Let's get out of here._

_Lucifer started whistling in the background._

_There's a truth in your eyes_

_Saying you'll never leave me_

_The touch of your hand_

_Dean didn't even raise an eyebrow this time._


	12. Why do they assume we are gay?

Chapter 12

"**Why do they all assume we're gay?"**

They drove the stolen Chrystler out of the empty parking lot in silence and Dean checked the mirror several time to make sure they weren't followed. There was no music this time as the stereo had been stolen, wires hung lifeless from the empty space it had once been built into.

After a while, Castiel shifted in his seat.

"Dean?" the angel asked.

"What?" Dean didn't care if he sounded gruff. He'd had a bad day and it was getting worse by the minute.

"How do you know if you love someone?"

Dean choked and closed his eyes.

"Oh, God... "

"... smite me now." the angel finished his sentence, staring at him. "I do not understand why you pray for oblivion every time you are frustrated, Dean."

Dean shook his head sideways.

"I'm not frustrated, I'm annoyed. Angels annoy me."

The angel went silent and turned to face the side-window. Noticing the twinge of hurt on his face, Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm just not comfortable with all this lovey dovey stuff, okay? It's nothing personal," he paused. "Well, it's a little personal. You **were** a dick."

"I am sorry, Dean."

"Don't say you're sorry. This is turning into bigger chick flick story than Dirty Dancing! All we're missing is Baby in a corner."

Lucifer leaned in between them.

"I think that would be you, Dean."

"Close your cookie-hole," Castiel growled to the fallen angel's amusement, who leaned back on the seat with his hands resting behind the neck. "Dean, I do not mean to make this into a female romance story, and I do not think we have the time to find a baby, but I really need to know."

"And I really need a therapy session." Dean shook his head. "I'll tell you what love's not; it's not just rainbows and butterflies!"

Lucifer opened an eye.

"No, there's also sperm."

At this Dean began knocking his forehead to the steering-wheel. Castiel scrunched up his face and as he did, Lucifer flickered in the back-seat. Suddenly he was gone and the angel shrugged astonished.

"It worked."

"Couldn't you have done that earlier?!" Dean growled, once he realized the other angel really wasn`t just hiding.

"I was not aware it was in my power, Dean. If I did, I would have."

"Better late than never, I guess."

Castiel shifted in his seat again, mentally rewinding and suppressing a surge of irritability.

"I really am sorry. For being a … dick..." Castiel looked down at the hands folded in his lap. "It was not right to punish you so severely for being an insufferable mud-monkey."

Dean raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated as the words suddenly formed a different question than he had intended them to.

"Do you think Real Cas has a thing for … other me?"

The angel gave him an intense stare that slithered down his spine like wiggling jello.

"Do you?"

Too close for comfort, a fire suddenly burning in the blue eyes, the words _I did all of it for you_ suddenly did cart-wheels in his mind.

"Oh, hell," he said, and took a deep breath. "Yeah. I guess I do."

The angel didn't say anything, but the burning glare drilled into his temple, so Dean coughed nervously.

"I mean, it's crazy, right? But it could be worse."

Castiel tilted his head and slightly parted lips as Dean continued;

"It could be Uriel!" He raised his eyebrows and smiled defeated at the angel, who gave him a slight astonished face, before smiling back at him as Dean continued;

"At least you're a handsome son-of-a-bitch."

_Aaand, cut to all the chicks going "Awww.."_

Lucifer flickered back into the back-seat.

"Lost your concentration there, pal? Now, what were you two sweet-hearts talking about? Candy Pops and fairy tales?"

"None of your damned business. Cas, mute him, please."

As Lucifer flickered and vanished, Dean suddenly stepped on the breaks. The car slid to a slow stop. The angel grabbed a tight grip on the door and Lucifer appeared again. Castiel stared at Dean, who seemed deeply lost in thoughts as he exhaled deeply.

"No, it can't be that easy."

"What, Dean?"

Dean blinked and threw him an absentminded stare. "I think I've gone crazier than the lobotomized chick in Sucker Punch, but I've got an idea and the hospital is a helluva lot closer than Bobby."

He pulled the gearing stick back and stepped on the gas, making a sharp u-swing that made the angel cringe in his seat.

"Did all of it for me, my ass."

The hospital was shrouded in dark as the night had crept upon them. There were no paranoid delusions hiding in the bushes as they brushed past them to the unlit entrance. Even the lobby was abandoned, with the exception of a drowsy nurse shifting through papers behind the glass window that shielded the counter. She raised her head as they swiftly walked past her.

"I am sorry, sirs, but it's way past visitor's hours!"

"Don't worry about it, you'll forget us in a second anyways," Dean replied as strode down the hall to the elevator.

The nurse frowned, but then went back to her paperwork with a small mumble.

"Dean, what are we doing?" Castiel`s brow creased as they rode the elevator back to the third floor.

"Do me a favor, Cas. Don't talk to me for the next hour."

Castiel fell back to pad behind him.

The hall was filled with an eerie melancholic silence, not the sounds you would usually find in a psych ward filled with schizophrenics and insomniacs. It was almost deafening and Dean could feel a lump in his throat choking him. "Don't chicken out..." he muttered to himself. "Gotta take one for the team..."

The squiggly feeling of heavy butterflies rummaged through his insides when he opened the door to Cass` room.

The angel, the real one, hadn't moved an eyelash since they had been there earlier. With pale lips slightly parted he stared blankly up past the ceiling.

Dean moved to his bedside and swallowed.

"Please, Cas, please, wake up!"

'

Then he bent down and pressed his mouth firmly against the angel`s parted lips, while closing his eyes he hoped to God there was such a thing as a fairytale-ending that didn't include the awkward morning thereafter.


	13. Its not Snake All that Slitters

Chapter 13

"**It's not snake all that slithers"**

Epilogue -

As Castiel watched Dean rake leaves across the moist green grass and gather them in a colorful heap under the tree in the garden, he felt something soft and invisible press against his lips. For a moment it lingered, before fading into words that followed the breeze around him. _Wake up, Snow white._

His blue eyes narrowed and creases appeared over his brow.

Crowley appeared behind him and the snarky voice almost infuriated the angel. The deal was tempting. He needed help.

Looking back at Dean he remembered the fleeting sensation on his lips. He wasn't infallible and he couldn't do this without help, but the hunter deserved a normal life after all the sacrifices he had made.

_Wake up_

There it was again. Castiel blinked as he realized he couldn't do it. He couldn't make a deal with this demon after everything he had learned. He couldn't do this alone, but if he asked Dean for help, he knew he would receive it. Taking a closer look he saw it in the green eyes that the man wasn't happy. After everything they had gone through together, he knew that Dean would drop anything to help him. The war in heaven wouldn't just affect the angels. It could destroy everything. Maybe if he told him he'd try to get his brother back, they could do this together.

He turned to the calculating King of Hell.

"No."

Crowley threw his hands.

"Castiel ..."

"I said no. If you ever go near this house again, I will smite you."

There was a blink as Crowley disappeared with a frustrated scowl.

Castiel shifted and turned back to see Dean slamming the lid back on the overfilled garbage bin. The former hunter brushed dirt roughly off his jeans, but stopped when he noticed the angel walking towards him.

"Cas."

"Dean."

From the other side of the street, a very solid-looking Lucifer watched them talk. As a yellow truck came down the street and cruised past him, the man changed to reveal a smiling Chuck. After a few moments he turned around and strolled away, whistling a joyful tune as he looked up into the blue skies.


End file.
